


High Stake

by 318



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/318/pseuds/318
Summary: (Spoilers for Endgame)Thor has a plan.





	High Stake

**Author's Note:**

> So, I came back from watching Endgame and I was down. My reactions? Staying up until 3 am and writing. Nothing I would do normally, EVER, but I had to get rid of the emotions.

Frigga smiled, and Thor swallowed. How he had missed her smile. It warmed his bitter heart and flooded his brain with lightheadedness the alcohol no longer gave him. While he followed her to her chamber, he pinched his arm and flicked against his nose. There was pain, and no awakening, so he wasn’t dreaming. 

He had to pause for a moment. After he had killed Thanos, Thor left Earth with Rocket and Nebula. They searched for the missing Asgardians and brought them back to Earth. Since then, there was nothing left to do. He had put the Valkyrie in charge of New Asgard and started drinking. 

There wasn’t much he remembered besides that. Not that anything memorable happened. Probably, he couldn’t be sure. Maybe he forgot. So, being here shouldn’t feel real. Hel, it wasn’t real. His heart hurt nevertheless, for it was the truest thing that had happened to him for years. In the dungeons, tiptoeing in front of Loki’s cell, he had been able to convince himself that it was just a macabre dream. Now, with his mother waiting for him, smiling her smile that burned in his soul hotter than a sun, all he could do was keep himself from collapsing. He went on, and Frigga lead the way without wasting a word on his struggle.

 

Thor was 1500 years old, a seasoned warrior and crowned king, used to victory and defeat and adept in mourning. When Frigga spoke to him, he found himself craving for her advice like he was a toddler. 

There was a knock at the door. Frigga waved him to the side - his appearance would raise too many questions, should somebody see him. She went to answer the door, speaking with whoever needed something of her in the hallway. 

He wandered her rooms, drinking all in, knowing he had to return to his time where all the beauty was gone. Where the people who made this beauty mean something were gone. And suddenly, his fighting spirit awoke, and thoughts raced through his underused mind.

Maybe, maybe he could save Asgard. He knew about the significance of this day he relived for the second time. In a few hours, his mother would die. He couldn’t stay long enough to prevent it. But he could warn her. Would it be enough? Frigga’s death had devastated Odin. If he could save his mother, he would save his father. And without Odin dead, Hela would stay imprisoned, long enough for Thor taking care of her without having to blow the whole planet up. 

What about Loki? Without Frigga’s death, he would stay in his cell. Safe.

Safe? Thanos was still out there. He still wanted the Tesseract, he still wanted to punish Loki for his failure. Thor felt doubt nagging on his heart, a fear for Loki’s safety. But how could he reach his brother? There wasn’t enough time to go to the dungeons again. Before Thor could explain everything that had happened and bring Loki to believe him, his time would run out.

Deep in thoughts, his hand stroked a familiar surface. It was the worn leather cover of a book, an anthology of stories from the Vanir, mother’s people. When they were children, Frigga often read the stories to them. The last time he saw the book was after her death, in Loki’s cell. His wrath had shredded to a thousand pieces.

Wait. If the book was here now, and had been in Loki’s cell after Frigga’s death, someone must have given it to him. Thor peeked at the door. His mother was still away. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to let her in on the plan that was beginning to form in his head. He leapt at Frigga’s desk, ripped a corner of a letter she was writing away and scribbled a few words down onto the parchment. He put the note between the pages of Loki’s favorite story and hoped for the best. 

Thor put the book down where he found it, just as Frigga came back. Now all he had to do was tell her of what the day was about to bring… 

 

How did the old saying go? Mother knows best?

Thor clung to the hope there was truth to the statement. So his mother didn’t want to know her future? She was the wisest person he ever met. She had to have a reason. 

The moment they were back at the Avenger’s compound, Thor’s heart was heavy with the knowledge that his mother’s death was inevitable. But there was a beacon of hope. Maybe his short stay in the past wasn’t enough to save his parents or Asgard. There was a possibility Loki got his message, though. He looked around expectantly. If Loki lived, he would have to be here. 

There was no Loki. In contrary, alongside a lack of brothers, he discovered there was a lack of super spies, too. 

 

Losing hope and Natasha in the same breath was more than Thor could bear. So he stubbornly refused to acknowledge her demise. Until he couldn’t any longer.

 

In his long years, Thor had a fair share on battles. There wasn’t one that could rival this one. Not even the fight in the plains of Wakanda came close. Innumerable foes went for even more friends, and soon Thor lost track of the fights around him. Anyway, there was only one that mattered. 

Even without the Infinity Stones, Thanos was a fierce enemy, overpowering their desperate attack easily.

For a moment, when Thor was on his back and Stormbreaker slowly sank into his chest, he saw a black haired figure on the brink of his field of vision, looking daggers at him and creeping closer. He thought of his brother, coming to fetch him and take him to the golden city of Valhalla. But it wasn’t his time, and the Captain saved him. With Mjölnir. Where once Thor would have found resentment in his heart, there was relief now. He hadn’t to bear responsibility alone.

 

When Thor saw Stark sitting there, dying, he couldn’t help the little spark of fury crossing his mind. It should have been him. Maybe the stones would have killed him, too. But Thor had nothing left to lose, whereas Stark had finally built himself a home. How could he leave the ones behind who loved him? He had had a choice.

Again Thor felt his brother looking at him, but when he turned around, there was no one standing behind him.

 

Giving Asgard to the Valkyrie was probably the best decision he ever made. The realm - the village would thrive under her supervision. And with the Guardians Thor was free. He could travel with them, maybe a few centuries. If their lifespan would allow it. And if he didn’t want to be with them anymore, there were plenty of possibilities all over the galaxy. 

When he teased Quill, playfully challenging him for the leadership of the Guardians, he laughed to himself. Quill didn’t even realize he just gave up a kingdom. Why should he be interested in commanding a spaceship?

Thinking about a knife combat was satisfying, nevertheless. Thor wondered what Loki would think of his skills with a knife. He could picture him, standing in the hallway of the ship and shaking his head in disbelief, a snarky commentary on his lips. 

Averting his eyes, Thor couldn’t close his ears to the words. “If the line of succession on Asgard only would have been decided with daggers. There wouldn’t have been any need to overthrow its kings.”

Thor breathed shakily, laughing just a little bit. He was so focused on the hilarious line his mind had made up, he nearly missed the sharp intake of breath the Guardians took. They readied their weapons.

“Who’s this guy?” Quill yelled. 

The Loki-illusion appeared unfazed. “Do you care to introduce me, dear brother?”

Thor’s heart stopped beating. “You can see him too?” His voice was a whisper. 

“I am Groot!” 

“No, Groot, that one’s dead. Am I right, Thor?” Rocket watched him expectantly, aiming at Loki with a blaster.

“Yes, he was, he should be, I believe… “ Thor started swaying, tears welling up in his left eye. “Who are you? _What_ are you? Why do you keep haunting me?”

Loki cocked an eyebrow. “Haunting you? Do you feel guilty?” 

He got something out of his pocket, tossing it to the floor. “That’s why I’m here. But I suppose I could go if my presence is an inconvenience for you.” 

Thor slowly knelt, eyes fixing on the shred of parchment on the floor. He recognized the words before he read them. _If you ever have to give up the tesseract, prepare for pulling off your greatest trick again. When you have nowhere else to go, find the Benatar._

Loki’s voice cut the silence. “I wondered for years about the meaning of these words, and how they found their way into my possession.”

“How?” Thor asked with a small voice. “If you tricked him, on the Statesman, where were you all these years?”

His brother’s gaze became sympathetic. “The snap, Thor. I had escaped the Statesman with the Valkyrie and tried to track down a Benatar, when everything stopped existing. Then everything came back, and there was Strange telling us we had to fight… And I came.” He hesitated. “Did you… travel back in time to save me?”

“Not to save you,” Thor mumbled, still slumped on the floor, crumbling the parchment in his shaking hands. “The mission was to retrieve the Aether. But I couldn’t - I had to try -”

Rocket snorted, finally lowering his gun. “For the record, _I_ got the Aether. _You_ had a good cry on your mother’s shoulder.”

Loki’s lips trembled. “Why didn’t you save _her_?”

“I tried,” Thor assured sadly. “She wouldn’t allow me to tell her about the future. So she died.”

“So she died”, Loki echoed tonelessly. He came forward, ignoring Quill and Nebula who unlocked their blasters, and pulled Thor to his feet. “How long was I dead?”

“This time?” Thor asked. “Five years.”

Loki winced, still holding Thor’s forearm. “I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t have messed with time. That’s far too dangerous.”

Straightening himself a little, Thor negated. “I spent five years trying to drink myself to death. Even the Valkyrie was disgusted with me. I went on after mother, after father, after Ragnarök… losing you was too much too bear. It was a high stake, but maybe once it was worth it.” He tried a smile, and Loki leaned his brow carefully against Thor’s. 

“Don’t speak too soon,” he murmured. Thor shook his head and embraced him. 

The Guardians decided it was time for a tactical retreat and vanished. Seeing the last of Groot’s twigs disappearing around a corner, Thor whispered, “I was wrong, you know. You were never the worst brother.”

Loki just hugged him tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I could rant the whole night about Endgame. Honestly, I liked the movie. Some of the characters (especially Black Widow and Hawkeye, maybe even Cap) had great storylines. But I can't help feeling that the Russo's screwed Thor. I don't mind his sorry state at all. I mind him being weaker than in Thor 1, and all the work which was put into the character destroyed. AND NO LOKI AT ALL.  
> But fortunately we have fanfictions.


End file.
